Dominion
by Era Yachi
Summary: Sheppard and his team are caught between two feuding militia in an undying battle for control of the planet’s Stargate. Unable to negotiate with either side, they have to rely on what little resources they have to stay alive...Team fic. Whumpage. Banter.
1. The Odd Are Against Us

_**Dominion**_

**_-_**

**AN:** I've decided to start another episode-based, team-centric story. It takes place roughly mid-season three, before the episode 'Sunday'. The idea came to me recently, so I've started it, obviously. I'm going to try to stick to the idea that it's a fan episode, so while the banter and suspense may be up, my usual, overwhelming hurt/comfort moments will be put on a leash…at least until later. I won't torture the characters as much this time around…

…much.

This is **not **a sequel to Rules of War. Sorry. I left that one open-ended for a future oneshot, but this fic is an independent. Once I decide what to do with the ending of Rules of War, I'll write the oneshot sequel.

Expect a good story, anyway. And don't be afraid to tell me what I'm doing wrong. (smile)

**Summary:** Sheppard and his team are caught between two feuding militia in an undying battle for control of the planet's Stargate. Unable to negotiate with either side, they have to rely on what little resources they have to stay alive…

* * *

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_Chapter One: The Odd Are Against Us_

_- _

Sheppard knew he couldn't trust a MALP.

He, Ronon, Teyla and McKay had been surrounded almost as soon as they were outside the 'gate. Three of their new friends stood around the MALP, which still hadn't moved from the spot they left it. As far as he was concerned, they could have it. It didn't exactly do its job warning them of the small army waiting for them on the other side.

Forced to their knees with the hands bound behind their backs, Sheppard's team now knelt in a line, dead center of the observing soldiers. Their uniforms were pastel greens and grays—kind of like a solid body suit with tough, leather chest plates, arm and leg gear, and weird shaped helmets.

And they had guns.

Well, some of them did. The ones who didn't were sporting some mean-looking crossbows and long, jagged knives. They fell into a whole other category of 'deadly'.

So far, their leader hadn't stepped forward to make introductions. After a few minutes of talking out loud, Sheppard learned that no one was interested in listening to him. McKay gave up a few minutes later, making their wait in the 'gate clearing a little less irritating and a lot more frustrating. Until the sun reached its zenith, that is.

Beside him, Rodney squirmed against his ties…for about the trillionth time. Next to him, Ronon grunted his annoyance.

"Would you _please_ stop doing that?" he asked.

Rodney didn't stop, unsurprisingly. "Well, excuse me if my arms are killing me," he snapped right back. Then he muttered, "It's not like you're doing anything to help…"

"Boys," warned Sheppard, which earned him a moment of stillness…and silence.

The sun was hot, and the day had already been longer than it needed to be. On Atlantis, the idea of traveling to FT9-319 had been perfectly safe. No lifesigns within a reasonable distance...or any distance for that matter. Actually, Dr. Weir wasn't scheduled to send reinforcements through from her end until and hour after they failed to check in. That was six hours from now. It had been a few hours already, and Sheppard tried to think about something other than the painful ache in his knees. With about twenty-five guns trained on him right now, shifting his weight was a pretty big gamble.

Teyla glanced around at their captors. "Perhaps they are waiting for their leader to arrive,"

"I don't know," Sheppard said quietly. No one seemed to be paying any real attention to them, but then, they were outnumbered three to one. "Is it just me, or do all of these guys look the same?"

"Really?" said Rodney. "I hadn't noticed, because all I can think about is their _weapons_!"

"Calm down, Rodney." The colonel glared at him through the corner of his eye. "Just be glad they aren't using them. Teyla, are you sure you've never seen these guys before?"

"Yes," she replied. "I do not recognize their clothing or their weapons, but there is something unusual about their faces…"

"I don't see it," said Ronon.

"It takes a trained eye."

The voice was obviously addressed to them and it came from behind. Sheppard immediately twisted around to look at their approaching captor as he moved into full view. A tall guy, with broad shoulders and thick, unkempt hair tied into a queue strode across the plateau and came to a casual halt in front of the colonel. He had a swagger, like a a drunk in a bar who had no idea that he was milliseconds away from toppling over. Sheppard really didn't like guys with swaggers.

The Tall Guy crouched down, well within head-butting range, and put on a pretense of looking thoughtful.

"That's funny. You don't look Odarnian," he said.

Sheppard could practically feel Rodney mouthing the word 'Odarnian' with a contemptuous comment soon to follow, so he spoke up first: "You'd be surprised how often we get that."

Their captor didn't look amused, but at least he didn't strike out at him. "I would save your charming drollness for later. On this planet, being disrespectful is the fastest way to losing your tongue."

"We'll keep that in mind," said Sheppard. "Now, I hate to be the one to say this, but your guys' hospitality really sucks."

"I'm not surprised." The tall man stood up and sidestepped towards McKay. He looked down at the shrinking scientist with a diverted expression. "But I am curious. Which one of you is the leader?"

"I am," said Sheppard.

"Is that so?" Tall Guy raised an eyebrow and he slowly stooped towards Rodney.

There was a taught feeling in Sheppard's chest--the same one that came on every time someone threatened one of his team. It was a bad feeling. It usually came right before something bad and there was always a bad taste in his mouth. The little routine things in life were glorious...until they happened to involve the harassment of his friends.

And sure enough, there was a glint of metal; their overbearing captor had pressed the edge of a knife against McKay's jaw and drawn a fresh, though very shallow, line of blood.

Sheppard's body tensed. Ronon sprung forward, restrained only by the soldiers (built like rocks, Sheppard noted) who grabbed him and hauled him back. Teyla glared daggers at their captor, but remained in her silent wrath. McKay flinched slightly, but to his credit, he didn't make a sound.

"I think," said their captor, leaning back and wiping the edge of the knife on a white rag. "That you're not lying, foreigner. A leader doesn't openly show his emotions when his friends are threatened. Nor does he cower in fear, like this one. And true leaders are certainly never…female," he added, eyeing Teyla with disdain.

"Oh, I think you would be very surprised," she replied evenly.

"Hey, I don't like it when people poke holes in my friends," Sheppard cut in. "We haven't done anything wrong, so why don't you just untie us, and let us go back through the Stargate to where we came from?"

"And wouldn't that be ideal? Allow you to return home with full knowledge of our existence? So that you can gather your reinforcements and take this Gate by force?"

"This is all starting to sound a little familiar, and I don't like where it's going." Sheppard straightened himself, despite the ache in his arms from being roped together for so long. "Look: we're peaceful explorers. We came to this planet because we want to investigate the Ancient ruins. We're not interested in taking anything by force."

"Yet you brought weapons."

This time, Rodney was through with being quiet and complacent. "_Yes_, we brought weapons," he snapped. "We'd have to be complete idiots to not bring weapons, because people like _you _have this uncanny tendency to make our lives a _lot_ harder!"

"Rodney," Sheppard warned under his breath.

Their lead captor wasn't fazed by McKay's angry display. "So, if I'm to believe that you're peaceful explorers," he said, pretending to seem thoughtful. He began to stride in a close, exaggerated circle around the team. "Then I will need proof. Prove to me that you're not hostile. What kind of…information have you found in your travels? Where are you from? What brings you here? What…are your names?"

Sheppard felt like a mouse being interrogated by a cat, and knew that it was an intended feeling. Instead of playing his game, however, he decided to make his own. "We'll tell you all that and more," he said dispassionately, glaring upwards. "_If _you tell us why you're guarding this 'gate."

Tall Guy's brow furled. "Have I been too clandestine? How rude of me. It's no secret, actually. This Interplanetary Gate belongs to me, foreigner. I'm simply protecting it from the Odarnian bastards from the south. Now that you know this, why not tell me who you are and what it is you are _really_ doing here?"

Sheppard had to hand it to him: he knew how to be a sneaky, professional interrogator. His first impression of the guy had been something a little too like Kolya for comfort, but he was far more diplomatic than that—he was smart enough to know that psychology earned more answers than brute force.

If it weren't for the blood dripping from McKay's chin, he might have even considered being friends with the guy. But yeah…Tall Guy had missed his chance.

"My name is Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard. This is my team: Ronon, Teyla and Dr. McKay. We're…what's left of an expedition that used to be in the city of Atlantis."

"Before we blew it up," McKay added unhappily, playing along with the story despite his discomfort.

"I've heard of Atlantis," Tall Guy admitted, narrowing his eyes. "It is a shame, destroying such a sacred place to save the lives of just a few hundred."

"It's a bit more complicated than that."

"Isn't it always?" Tall Guy clasped his hands behind his back in a posture that seemed…well, rehearsed. "My name is Endelas. I govern the Dolosus Clan military attachment. For now, I will release you. If you try anything that isn't—peaceful—I will order my men to shoot you on the spot."

Although it was a fair trade, Sheppard still grimaced. "There, see? We're capable of getting along, after all. Aren't we, Ronon?"

The Satedan was still glaring at Endelas with extreme hatred. Maybe this was due to the fact that he was still tied up—beacause a tied up Ronon was an angry Ronon no matter who was at fault. But Sheppard had a feeling it was in part due to Endelas's scorn of Teyla, for her gender, his disrespect for Sheppard's leadership and his bullying of McKay. Endelas had done three of the top five things in the 'most likely to make Ronon see red' category.

Still. If they were going to make it out of this situation without any casualties, Sheppard had to make Ronon get a hold of himself. And luckily, the larger man found it grudgingly bearable to sit still and express his feelings for Endelas with bitter silence.

Endelas waved his hand—signaling his men—and the handful of personal guards lowered their knives to cut the bonds on each of their wrists. Sheppard half-figured Ronon would leap to his feet and start an all-out brawl, but then, the man wasn't stupid. They were outmatched, and Endelas didn't seem like the kind of guy to promise imminent death as a hobby.

"You're unarmed and outnumbered," their captor announced, as though they needed to be reminded. Sheppard eyed Teyla, and the four teammates exchanged the usual glances. Rodney was wiping at the nick on his face, muttering something about monkeys with sharp rocks, as Endelas went on.

"I doubt you'll do anything rash to jeopardize your lives, but should you feel the urge, remember that _all_ of my men are expert marksmen. We could, of course, bypass all over this unnecessary threatening and move on to more important things."

"Like what?" Ronon demanded darkly.

As curious as he was to know the answer, Sheppard found himself unable to stop staring at the host of nonchalant soldiers milling around. Every one of them seemed to be doing something _other_ than keeping an eye on the group of prisoners. Even their personal escort service was blank-eyed and bored. Either they had _way_ too many offworld visitors, or there was something else going on here that was even more creepy…

Not for the first time, he really wished he'd said 'no' to the FT9-319 mission when he had the chance.

"For now, let's trust not in each other, but in our common goal," Endelas was saying as four of the big, tough soldiers move in behind them.

Sheppard motioned to the others to follow him as they began to call clear across the 'gate site, past the DRD and in an organized group towards the line of trees.

"Which is?" he asked.

"Knowledge. What else? You can't deny that you're adept in the Ancestors technology. I examined the items that were confiscated from you very thoroughly."

_Which explains why we had to wait for two and half goddamned hours in the sun,_ thought the colonel. He heard McKay snort behind him, and already knew that the scientist was going to throw a fit if any of his delicate equipment was tampered with in any way. The last time anyone had moronically taken control of Rodney's electronic toys, he'd complained for a month over a tablet that supposedly held a great deal of research he'd gathered on his 'unlimited energy sources' project. To be fair, Zelenka did nearly as much grouching. This time, Sheppard found himself almost wishing that nothing would be damaged…or recovered. Not with all that Earth-related, Atlantis-still-existing information just waiting to be discovered by the wrong hands.

"Dr. McKay," Endelas said thoughtfully. "Am I to understand that you practice medicine? None of your personal effect suggests that you're a real doctor."

"Huh," McKay replied haughtily, in spite Sheppard's look of extreme annoyance. "If it's not too painfully difficult for you grasp, then yes, I am. I'm a doctor of science, which by the way, are the only kind that actually do anything useful."

"What McKay means to say is, he's a scientist. I'm sure you've got a few of those laying around somewhere back at home," said Sheppard.

"Several. What do you know of the Interplanetary Gates?"

Before Sheppard could stop him, Rodney had shot back.

"Everything," the scientist griped, unhappy though content to be distracted by the round of twenty questions. "Which brings me to mention how absolutely pointless it is to be guarding the 'gate with an army that could make William Wallace weep. I mean, seriously, does it take a genius to figure out how to remove a few—"

"Rodney, I think you sound a little tired. Why don't you hang back with Ronon for a bit?" Sheppard practically growled in McKay's face.

McKay knew immediately that he'd said too much, blanched, and stopped dead in his tracks. Only to have Ronon slap an arm on his back and push him forward, causing him to stumble out of his daze. "Oh, God," he said under his breath.

"You have interesting friends, Colonel Sheppard," surmised Endelas with a wry grin. "This pressing need to have you all executed is getting weaker, I'll admit."

Their entourage was reaching the pit of a dark swell, the trees overhanging like monsters from a storybook, but broken by an occasional ray of sun. The foliage was clumped very thick here, though rather than getting deeper, the humid forest simply…ended. Sheppard spotted a grassy clearing—or rather, the edge of a cliff—just ahead through the edge of the trees.

"I'd like to introduce you to the Ragnarok—my home and my base of operations," said their captor-in-chief, as the group approached the enormous gap beyond the cliff.

The be perfectly fair—this wasn't what Sheppard expected. A village, a bunch of square buildings; maybe even an old, abandoned Ancient outpost. But down there, at the bottom of the long, sheer drop was a sixty thousand metric ton wonder.

On the red-brown plateau that spanned for eternity, was the Ancient's version of a battle-class cruiser.

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TBC


	2. Into The Lion's Denial

_**Dominion**_

_**- **_

AN: Hey…nice, positive feedback. My spirits are up. Good thing. I love spirits. All kinds of spirits. Purples ones, blue ones, red ones, green ones, exploding ones…

…imaginary ones…

(On a side note, forgive me for taking so long to update. I've been distracted…by…shiny things.)

* * *

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_Chapter Two: Into The Lion's Denial_

_- _

It was easily one and a half times the size of Orion. It was massive. It was intact. And it was _cool_.

Sheppard had to be extremely careful with his outward reaction, of course. If he appeared _too_ impressed, Endelas would start assuming that he had an advantage over him. Which was probably true. He seriously doubted that the Daedalus and every single Puddlejumper in Atlantis combined could take on a cruiser like this in space.

But he wasn't blind, either. He saw the blanket of red dusting the top of the ship. No one had moved this thing for centuries. Yeah, it was a nice Ancient ship. But it was still a _crashed_ Ancient ship.

"So," he said dourly and peered over the long drop. "You have one of these."

It had taken fifteen minutes, give or take to walk here from the 'gate. There was a fifteen-story decline towards the flat bottom of the plateau. That meant the Stargate was on much higher ground than the ship. Which begged the question: which came first, the ship or the Stargate?

He'd become pretty good at sensing McKay's moods by now, and he practically felt the air electrify around him with the scientist's sudden leap in interest. He eyed him with a hard gaze, which instantly killed whatever it was Rodney had in mind. His face turned bitterly sober.

"We estimate that it crash-landed on this planet five thousand years ago," said Endelas. "Don't worry—the inside is a lot nicer than the outside."

Well, Sheppard knew of just about five dozen scientists in Atlantis that would eat their own degrees for a chance to tell this guy that he was wrong. Either that, or the information he was getting was useless. But he wasn't about to tell Endelas he was off by a few millennia. Not in a million years.

McKay was still reeling from his burst of ego, and he was brilliant enough to not make the same mistake twice. Ronon's 'say-anything-and-die-slowly' glare might have helped, too.

Endelas must have taken their lack of response as pure astonishment, because he waved to his soldiers and Sheppard's team was once again moving along the edge of the cliff. The trees were shrinking gradually into shrubs; the horizon getting clearer until they reached a spot that was practically barren of vegetation—the sun baking the rusty terrain that stretched out to the wasteland beyond. They stopped here.

There was some kind of wood-and-metal box contraption sticking out over the edge, and a solid steel ramp the width of a BMW led out to the platform where it stood. No one had to ask to figure out what it was. Sheppard couldn't think of any other reason they'd have a box attached to a giant pulley system overhanging a one-fifty foot drop.

"Once we reach the bottom, my men will separate you into two groups," Endelas suddenly spoke out. A cold feeling seeped into Sheppard's chest. "As of right now, I've no reason to think that you and your team are dangerous, Colonel," he added speculatively. "But why take chances?"

"I don't like that idea," the colonel replied harshly.

"Well, I don't like your hair, but occasionally we're forced to live with these things," their captor replied. "It's a statement, Colonel; not an offer."

They were herded onto the ramp and like a herd, gathered in the center of the questionable contraption. It was hard to no look over the edge of the platform when there was no hand railing and nothing to stop a man (or in Teyla's case, woman) from plunging over the side in the event of a slight misstep. Crossing the ramp was hardest for McKay, who, in addition to a large list of phobias, wasn't happy about heights, either. Heights never bothered Sheppard (if they did, he'd have been laughed out of the Air Force by now), but the experience still left him feeling a little woozy.

"This is absurd," Rodney was muttering despondently. "Seriously, this thing could fall apart at any second. If we by any chance _meet_ the guy who designed this technologically catastrophic failure, remind me to slap him."

"I'm going to slap _you_, Rodney, if you don't shut up about these guys when they're still _around,_" Sheppard growled. Point to reason about McKay—he really didn't know how to shut it when it came to abusing the local's intelligence.

Ronon, on the other hand, appeared happy to agree with him.

"Colonel, I am sensing that these men care nothing about what we say," Teyla said with considerable thought. She was eyeing the handful of soldiers standing on all side of their huddled group on the square platform.

He paused to examine the faces of their guard before replying. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

Aside from the fact that none of these guys had spoken a word since they'd arrived on the damn planet, they were all but staring into space as though the team didn't exist. Sheppard knew some military factions were strict, but unless these men had graduated from the "Pay No Attention To Your Enemies And Still Win" academy of special training, then they weren't doing a very good job of…well, anything.

Sheppard redirected his attention to Endelas, who was still standing on the ground across the long, open ramp. The Dolosus leader was talking into a device strapped to his wrist—probably some kind of radio—and Sheppard couldn't hear a damn word of what he was saying.

Finally, Endelas turned around and strode across the ramp. "Take us down," he ordered the silent operator of the lift.

Sheppard weighed his options on the ride down. He could tell by Ronon's expression that he'd have no trouble starting a fight on the rickety platform, but there were a few things that bothered him. First: there were four guards, plus Endelas, who were all very well armed and despite their lack of interest in their jobs, probably would mind if things got aggressive. Second: the elevator _was_ a bit crappy. It probably wouldn't survive a full-out brawl.

He chose to stay a circumstantial sheep. If Endelas had something in mind that kept his whole team alive, he'd take that option. For now, anyway.

The bottom of the cliff was a deeper, bloodier red than the dust on the higher plateau. This hue of red defied any kind of natural likeness to Earth terrain. This red was the red of a battlefield after a massive slaughter. Or the colour of the stones in a butchery.

They all disembarked from the platform, with Endelas leading them across a scattered patch of half-dead bushes until they were within five minutes walking distance of the Ragnarok.

"Sheppard?" Ronon ventured under his breath.

The colonel raised his head a little to indicate he was listening. He didn't need Telya or McKay catching on to their offside discussion, just in case.

"If we split up, then what's the plan?"

In all fairness, it was a good question. But Sheppard didn't have an answer to give, because all of the scenarios he'd imagined in the past ten minutes had glaring flaws that he couldn't let play. Not unless he wanted to gamble the lives of his teammates.

Damn it.

Even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't answer Ronon. A split second later, and a concrete hand landed on his shoulder and jerked him to a stop. He noticed one of their 'escorts' step in front of Teyla, blocking her from going any further. Two steps behind, another soldier grabbed McKay's arm and began to pull him away—Ronon followed next, though the fourth soldier showed his first sign of intelligence by prodding him with his gun rather than invading the Satedan's personal space.

Heat entered Sheppard's veins as he watched two of his teammates compelled towards the open plateau. "This is a bad idea, Endelas," he warned with genuine irritation. "We could easily work this out on even ground. Don't make this mistake."

"Colonel, I rarely make mistakes." Endelas spoke without stopping or turning around. Sheppard was forced to keep walking as Ronon and McKay were escorted away. "When I do, I'm continuously well aware that I'm making them. So spare me with the heroic threats of your aptitude. I don't plan on hurting your friends, so long as you don't trying anything foolish."

Teyla had her jaw set firmly. Unlike the rapidly disappearing half of his team, she was the only one with the self-control to keep her emotional retorts to herself. Colonel silently sympathized with her. He knew just how frustrated she felt right now.

Ragnarok's shadow finally overwhelmed them in the afternoon sun. The gaping mouth of a hangar door loomed in front of them—in the light, Sheppard could see rows upon rows of something (tents or houses?) covering the hangar floor. The hangar itself looked like it hadn't been closed in centuries—dunes of red dust, vegetation and rocks barricaded the open doors. Obviously, this part of the planet wasn't prone to major storms.

Their two remaining escorts were joined by three more square-jawed men. They fell into formation behind them without a blink on Endelas's part. Sheppard stiffened. What the hell kind of military acted so uniformly without a single command, or salute or even a damned head nod?

They stepped into the cooler interior of the ship moments later. He'd been right. The shapes he'd seen from a distance were tents—hundreds of them—that formed a cluttered maze of a community. There were people living here. Men, women, children and even animals (scaly, two-legged, half dinosaur, half dog animals to be exact) inhabited every square inch of the hangar. Laundry, fire pits, recreational centers and even the odd wooden cabin occupied even more space—it was a miracle anyone could walk through this mess without tripping over someone's dinner, bedroll or toddler.

No one looked up or acknowledged the arrival of the newcomers. This was not what he'd been expecting. Now he knew for sure that something wasn't right.

It took only another ten or fifteen seconds for it to occur to him—and it did very strongly—that he was looking a massive community of…siblings? Cousins? If they weren't all family, he didn't know what the hell he was looking at. He was surrounded by people whose physical appearances differed by the slightest variation of hair colour, a somewhat larger nose, a tapered jaw rather than a smooth one, or the gaps between their teeth.

These people didn't just share the same living space—they shared a whole gene pool.

He knew Teyla had noticed. The confusion in her face betrayed that fact. She was used to large communities of people, natives to their planet…but obviously, this was something she'd never seen before. They had stepped into a whole new world of alien.

And Endelas, with his air of arrogant authority, pretended as though they weren't even there.

Boiling with the urge to wring answers out of their new host by his bare hands, Sheppard grudgingly continued to travel towards the back of the open hangar in silence. Not until they reached the triple set of doors that led to the corridors beyond, did he put aside the more glaring questions and pry with the only one he thought was worth asking right now.

"Where are they taking McKay and Ronon?"

The doors slid open with a weary hiss as Endelas turned on them in a lazy manner. "To see Maryleise, good Colonel. A woman who is far, far more capable of extracting the information I need from uniquely difficult characters. No offense, of course."

In spite of the dim hallways that stretched out before him, Sheppard suddenly stopped caring about where it was Endelas was taking him. The words 'extracting' and 'information' had been used in reference to Ronon and McKay. There was no goddamned _way_ he was going to even _pretend_ to be diplomatic anymore.

"If she so much as _scratches_ either one of my people, Endelas, that'll be your _last_ mistake. And since you're such a smart guy, I'd think you'd realize that this is one you _don't_ want to make."

In response, the tall, somewhat grizzled commander reached over his forearm to the metal brace-like device he had been using earlier. This time, he pressed a diminutive switch on its surface, releasing a pressurized hiss of something liquid being forcefully injected into his bloodstream. With a slight shudder of what might have been relief, Endelas paused briefly before reopening his eyes.

He stared directly into Sheppard's fierce gaze and said, "If I were you, Colonel, I would worry less about them…and more about the fate I have considered for yourself."

* * *

- 

TBC


End file.
